Holding Back
by Setep Ka Tawy
Summary: An alternate ending to "The Force Unleashed", which extends into a whole new story. Galen Marek/Starkiller, Juno Eclipse, Rahm Kota, PROXY, and others. No further summary, lest the suspense is spoiled. AU: see explanation inside. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all its aspects belong to George Lucas. Anything of my creation will be noted at the beginning of the chapter in which it first appears.

Author's note: Although this story is obviously AU, I have tried to keep canon as many aspects as possible; on that note, my references were the game itself and the eternally-helpful Wookieepedia, so if my attempts at canon aspects don't match with the book, it's because I have not yet read it. Also, credit for the title goes to the song "Holding Back" by Dougie MacLean - I was astounded at how well the lyrics fitted to the story of Galen Marek.

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**Prologue**

Rahm Kota's cry of shock rose above the debris scattered across the throne room of the Emperor's tower, ravaged by the desperate conflict that had only moments ago ceased between Galen Marek and Darth Sidious. Razor-edged shards of glass glittered wickedly across the floor, partially concealing the scorched marks that were scored into every surface. The twisted bodies of the Emperor's Royal and Imperial Guards were sprawled limply along the chamber's perimeter, a mute testament to the ferocity of the battle.

Kota yelled in pain as the Emperor, only moments before seemingly defeated, threw another wave of lightning at the old Jedi, slamming him back into the ground where he writhed in agony. Without thinking, nearly acting on instinct, Galen threw himself between them, catching the Emperor's attack with his own hands. Trembling with the effort of holding back the unexpected strike through the Force, he turned his head in time to see Imperial reinforcements arriving under command of Darth Vader, whose metallic breath could be heard from afar.

"Go! Hurry!"

Galen screamed in vital urgency, glaring wildly at the rebel captives who stood halfway to the door, who were still standing in hesitation, unwilling to leave him behind. The former Sith apprentice heard Kota groan from the ground behind him as the general struggled to his feet again, his body still traumatized by the vicious lightning. That same lightning now burned like electric acid in Galen's hands, his will forcing his body to maintain the defense, the only barrier between life and death for the senators. The Emperor bared his teeth in wicked anticipation as his gaze met with Galen's, and there the younger man saw his own doom drawing inexorably closer.

Tearing his face away, he twisted around to see Kota standing a little ways behind. "Protect the senators!" he shouted, his eyes meeting with the general's. The harsh snap of lightning filled Galen's ears, and he wrenched his concentration back to resisting, for a few moments longer, the Sith Lord's attack. He just needed to buy his companions enough time to flee to the _Rogue Shadow_, where Juno was waiting to pilot them to freedom and safety.

A flurry of energy bolts whipped past as the platoon of storm troopers charged into the room. The tiny missiles burst and whizzed amongst the four captives. They took off, Bail hanging back slightly as Kota regained his coordination, and then both joined the mass dash for the exit. The troopers halted, ending pursuit, but continued to fire randomly at the fleeing rebels until the escapees had disappeared.

Galen gasped and arched his back in agony as Sidious pressed the already powerful attack. The Sith Lord's lightning lashed at the apprentice's body, engulfing his arms in devastating energy. Behind the Emperor, he could see the crippled and tattered figure that was his former master. Bitter satisfaction welled inside him. His last act would be to rid the galaxy of the Sith empire, and have his revenge for their betrayal.

The Emperor's lightning, now overcoming Galen's resistance, stabbed at him from all sides, tearing into his tortured body. Galen threw back his head, and with his voice reverberating in an inhuman scream of defiance, let the Force explode out of him. Searing light filled his vision. He was vaguely aware of agony beyond comprehension engulfing his senses, and the sensation of falling. His last coherent thought was of Juno - how would she react upon hearing of his demise?

Then darkness swathed his spirit, and there was nothing.

***

"He's dead, isn't he?"

Juno Eclipse's query was directed to Master Kota in a voice laden with both grief and acceptance. She had rushed to the boarding ramp as soon as she had gotten the ship safely away, out of range of the Death Star. Kota paused, letting the other's pass him by as the pilot directed the exhausted senators to temporary quarters aboard the ship. Bail, the last to depart, flashed a look of sympathy at Juno before disappearing after his companions. Only when he was alone with Juno did Kota speak.

"Yes," he said, quietly affirming the pilot's dread. "No one - or close to no one - could have survived that explosion." Hesitantly, he put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm not." Her voice was surprisingly intense as she stared fiercely back at him. "He gave his life to defeat the Empire, and I don't regret that." The words came automatically from her mouth, but she wondered if her heart was in agreement.

Kota did not meet her gaze. "I'm not sure he - he did even that," he said slowly. "Surely we would have felt it if the Emperor, or even Vader, had been killed. Somehow…. I think they're both still alive."

She glared at him, determined to hold back the angry tears that threatened to spill at this announcement. No… he could not have died for nothing… not after all the torment he had already undergone….

Kota shrugged wearily, leaning against the wall. "We underestimated them once," he pointed out. "We may have miscalculated again. I doubt any one man could kill either of those Sith Lords."

Juno felt her anger abating as realization came fully. "And he knew that," she murmured, almost to herself. "He knew he would die, but he still went to rescue you. He told me, before he left." She felt her face grow hot as the memory of their parting kiss resurfaced. It had been so passionate, so heartfelt, proof that Starkiller had finally, truly died.

"The boy knew what he was getting into," the old Jedi agreed. "It was only a matter of time before Vader found him again, and he had to act while he had the advantage." He smiled wryly. "He wasn't one to stop and talk things over for long."

Kota fell silent, following Juno as she made her way to the empty cockpit. The stars streaked silently by as she sat in front of the control panel.

"It's so strange," she noted softly, glancing at the co-pilot's chair. "Not seeing him sitting there." Turning away with an obvious effort, she took the _Rogue Shadow_ off autopilot and began laying in a course.

It was a long moment before Kota felt the shifted movement of the ship, and comprehended.

"What are you doing?" he demanded furiously, standing over her.

Juno crossed her arms and looked up at him coolly. "We're reversing course," she calmly explained.

"We just left that gargantuan planet-blaster! Now you want to go back for round two? Who are you planning will die this time?"

Her features shifted into a look of dangerous determination. "I'm going to retrieve his body."

"You're as _bad _as he was, that much is obvious. At least I know better than to openly challenge a power like that." Kota swore under his breath. "What do you want the body for? If you're planning some elaborate Jedi funeral, think again - he's probably already been incinerated. The Emperor will want to destroy the evidence that someone came so close to over-throwing his rule."

"I realize that. But I won't let him be thrown away like a piece of garbage. He deserves better than that."

"You're going to get yourself killed," Kota warned her.

"Fine. Then you can come with me and make sure at least _one_ of us makes it out with him."

The Jedi general stared levelly at her for a few moments before letting himself fall into a nearby seat, his hands spread carelessly wide. "Might as well," he conceded. "_Someone _who knows how to handle a weapon is going to have to watch your back. But I'm warning you," he added, straightening with a finger pointed in Juno's direction, "if things heat up too much, we're getting out, whether we've got the body or not. Bail Organa needs me if he intends to continue defying the Empire."

"Understood." Juno nodded, then swiveled away from him, back to the controls. "I'm activating the cloak now."

Leaning forward, Kota shook his head despairingly as he faced the viewport, seeming to watch the bright speck that was rapidly resolving into the ultimate image of destruction. Eyes narrowed, he stood. "I'd better tell Senator Organa, at least, what you're planning. If everything goes wrong, he should be able to get himself and the other senators away."

Almost at the door, he looked back. "I hope you realize what you're doing," he growled. "There's a high risk of all of us being captured again. Don't make _his_ sacrifice a wasted one, by accidentally destroying the rebellion he created." With that, he disappeared.

Juno kept her eyes trained on the growing Death Star, making final preparations for the approach. They would begin where the trail left off - the shattered remains of the Emperor's tower.

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More to come soon, I hope! Please read and review! May the Force be with you.


	2. The Force is Mocking Me

**Chapter 1 - "The Force is Mocking Me"**

Rahm Kota swore softly as he carefully stepped into the close to destroyed room, after checking that neither a Sith nor Imperial presence was nearby. The damage was unbelievable - the place seemed as if it could collapse at any moment. The squad of stormtroopers had been utterly annihilated, their corpses singed and mangled. But the two bodies he longed to see most were not here….

Juno, behind him, let out a small gasp.

"I didn't know anyone could do this much damage all on their own."

"That's the Force for you," Kota replied, scanning the wreckage. "He's not here anymore - we need to hurry." He moved towards a nearby door, then froze.

"Where do you think they took him?" Juno began to ask anxiously, then fell silent at a harsh gesture from the old Jedi.

"Troopers," he muttered urgently. "We can follow them - they might know something." _Why am I taking charge of this?_ he asked himself irritably, keying open the door and looking back to see that the pilot was following.

She was not.

"Now what?" he demanded, in a furious whisper. "We don't have time to sight-see -"

Juno was staring at something in her hand that glinted brightly. As Kota watched in exasperation, a single tear meandered down her cheek.

"It's… it's his lightsaber crystal."

The Jedi paused, wrestling between aggravation and a softer emotion he knew was most definitely not appropriate here, given the tense circumstances.

"Well, where's the rest of it?" He was controlling himself only with difficulty. Before Juno could answer, he continued, "Agh, that doesn't matter right now. Keep it if you want. Now _let's go_."

They entered a small turbolift, which swiftly bore them downward, humming coolly. Once at the bottom, the door opened, and Kota cautiously moved out into the corridor beyond, Juno following.

"Don't know why I'm leading this," he muttered under his breath. "I'm just here as protection -" He broke off sharply, beckoning Juno forward.

"What is it?" she whispered, coming up to stand close behind him.

In response, he nodded swiftly toward the end of the corridor. Two stormtroopers - Juno assumed it was their voices that had been heard - were maneuvering awkwardly around a sharp corner, carrying what seemed to be a dead weight between them. As the Jedi and pilot watched, the Imperials finally managed to turn ninety degrees with their burden and disappeared around the corner.

"They have him!" Juno observed, in a whisper that echoed in the eerily silent stillness.

"No kidding." Kota glanced around, noting that even here, significant damage was evident. "That blast must have really wrecked the tower, or it wouldn't have taken them so long to get up here. Let's go. I don't think I need to tell you to be quiet."

"No, you don't," she agreed, rather indignantly.

Pilot after general, the two darted on quiet feet along the broken corridor. As they neared the turn, Kota pressed himself against the right wall. Juno followed suit, and the old Jedi carefully peeked around the corner.

"They just went through a side door," he reported, drawing his head back. "My guess is we'd better hurry - they had the stance of two people looking forward to the end of a gruesome job."

"Where are they taking him?" asked Juno, softly.

"How should I know?" was Kota's irritable response. "I haven't got a map of this thing, you know. And you're talking like he's a prisoner of war instead of a dead corpse."

She glared at him in a hurt sort of way, but did not respond. Ignoring this, Kota straightened and edged around the corner. "I could do with a lightsaber right about now…. All right, let's go," he said shortly. "We're not going to get a second chance at this."

Juno nodded, her face set and determined, and drew a blaster from its holster at her belt.

Kota waved his hand, and the side door flew open, revealing a narrow observation balcony and service junction, set in a tight vertical shaft. A greenish glow from somewhere below reflected off the sides of the shaft, indicating that this must be a survey station for one of the Death Star's laser tubes.

"Let's get rid of this thi -" one of the troopers was saying, with both Imperials positioned to heft the body over the balcony's railing; but he broke off as the door opened. Two on two looked at each other for a moment. Then Juno slipped past Kota and opened fire, as simultaneously the troopers pulled out their own, considerably larger, blasters. Energy bolts ricocheted off the walls, bouncing and humming in the enclosed space. The fight was over with astonishing speed. The pilot hit one trooper in his chest plating, and he let out an agonized yell before tumbling over the balcony edge, propelled by Kota's Force-push along with his desperately flailing companion. Juno rushed to the railing in time to see both Imperials plummet downward with screams of despair. Then a faint sizzling sound and they were gone, consumed by the verdant laser beam below.

Disregarding this, Juno knelt by Galen's body, which the stormtroopers had unceremoniously dropped when she had attacked. Tears welled as she looked down at him, his limp form - such a short time ago alive and fighting for a cause, one so very different from the trials and regimes he had suffered under for most of his life. His expressionless face was cold to the touch as her hand brushed delicately across his forehead.

With a wary glance at the door, Kota walked the few steps to where the body lay. Something close to pity flickered across his rugged features, and he, too, sank to his knees.

"Let's get him out of here," he said quietly. "Before another patrol arrives -"

He stared hard at the former Sith apprentice and slowly closed his eyes, as if in acknowledgement of the other's legacy. A moment later, his eyes snapped open again, now wide with shock.

"The Force is mocking me," Kota said, in a voice of hoarse disbelief. "It's not possible."

Juno lifted her head to look at him. "What isn't possible?"

"The boy - the boy is _alive_."

The sound of running soldiers, coupled with hasty shouts, followed this remarkable pronouncement. Immediately, the old Jedi lifted the body, and flung it securely around his own shoulders. Juno also sprang upright as Kota got to his feet.

"We can discuss the impossibilities later. Go!"

The pilot sprinted obediently from the tiny room, Kota following close behind, with heavier footfalls due to his burden. They had barely run a few meters back down the hallway and turned the corner before Juno halted and wheeled about, blaster held ready.

"We'll never make it," she gasped flatly. "Someone has to hold them off."

Kota spun around to stare at her. "Getting yourself killed isn't going to help. We can still get away."

She did not move. "If he's truly alive, as you said, then the least I can do is make sure he stays that way by providing a diversion. I'll go as soon as you're clear. But if I don't come right behind you, don't wait - get out."

The Jedi general shook his head, whether in folly or admiration, the pilot could not tell. "All I'm saying is, I don't want to be the person next to him when he wakes up and find you dead." He sighed, then nodded. "Force be with you, Juno Eclipse."

The whine of blaster bolts scarred his hearing as he fled back to the _Rogue Shadow_.

Juno fired steadily as she backed along the corridor, trying to maintain the distance between herself and half a dozen stormtroopers. One was already sprawled behind his companions, taken out by one of the pilot's preliminary shots. But now that the advantage of surprise had evaporated, she found herself in hasty retreat, dodging left and right and back again to evade the flurries of scarlet energy. Then she miscalculated, and in ducking sideways to avoid one bolt she moved directly into the flight path of a second. The attack hit a glancing blow to her side, causing her to double over in pain.

It was time to leave. Any more time wasted here, and she wouldn't make it back.

Gasping, Juno turned and ran full out back through the destruction still plainly evident. Every step sent a streak of pain through her newly obtained injury, but she forced herself to continue on, teeth clenched in desperate resolve. More energy packets outstripped her pace in their flight from behind, but they burst harmlessly wide. Apparently, the shouting Imperials at her back needed a good deal more practice in moving and shooting at once. Seeing the turbolift ahead, Juno dragged herself on to greater speed, now moaning softly at the fire in her side.

***

Senator Organa was waiting anxiously at the door of the boarding ramp as Juno stumbled wearily into the ship. They moved a few feet into the entry chamber, then the pilot sagged forward, her face taut with pain. Bail caught her by the shoulders, steadying her weary body as she gasped for breath.

"What happened?" he asked, concerned, but she waved his query away.

"No time - for that now -" The injured pilot winced visibly, clutching at her side. "We need to leave -"

The Senator let his hands fall. Juno flung out her own arm to support herself as she began staggering to the cockpit. Bail hurried after, now in full flow with vehement rebukes.

"What were you thinking? General Kota didn't even give me time to protest before you were off on this reckless venture. And you're in no state to fly a ship -"

"Too late - to help that now -" She shrugged off his admonitions as they entered the cockpit, collapsing into the pilot's seat with a groan before preparing the ship to take off again. "We have to - get away - before they get a - tractor beam on us -"

Bail grasped the back of a seat with both hands to steady himself as the _Rogue Shadow_ shuddered into movement. Juno's hands flew over the controls. The ship made a tight upward arc, then the sublight engines fired up and they were headed out into open space. The pilot slumped back in relief. They had made it.

"Where to?" she asked shortly, blinking in pain.

Bail stared hard at her before replying. "Corellia."

She nodded numbly, and minutes later the now-cloaked ship was en route through hyperspace. Leaning back, Juno flicked on the autopilot system and rose with difficulty. Bail crossed his arms and looked sternly at her as she walked unsteadily past. Flipping open a small storage compartment built into the wall, she drew out a handful of bacta patches, then turned away to apply them to her side with shaking fingers. She did not look back as she limped out of the cockpit, leaving behind a Senator struggling to some to terms with whether or not the pilot had been right it going back.

***

"All right, Kota. Explain what's going on."

The Jedi general did not answer Juno's query immediately - in fact, he did not even look up to acknowledge her presence in the doorway of Galen's personal quarters aboard the ship. He remained kneeling in the center of the room, beside him, the former Sith apprentice's body. Kota's hands were placed firmly on Galen's chest, and only their minute vertical movement denoted that the latter still drew breath. After several moments, the old Jedi leaned back, his hands now resting at his sides as he finally looked over at the waiting pilot. The grave expression on his face did not bode well for Galen's continued survival.

"I'm no healer," he said at last, his shoulders sagging wearily, "but this isn't looking good. It seems he's almost gone beyond even a coma, and I honestly couldn't tell you what's keeping him alive at all."

"But why isn't he dead?" Juno queried, a bit sharply. "Even if he had survived the explosion…. Why didn't Vader or the Emperor kill him?"

"My guess is, one of them checked for his Force-presence, but it was so tiny that the residual Force energy from the blast simply obscured it. They couldn't find him in the Force, and they naturally assumed that someone this powerful would have been easily detected normally, so they took him for dead."

Juno nodded mechanically, her eyes locked on Galen's limp form, a shell of what he had been. "Isn't there anything we can do?" she pleaded desperately.

Kota hesitated visibly before replying. "There might - might, mind you - be a way to heal him, through the Force. I know the theory, but -" he shrugged helplessly, "- I've never done it in quite this way before. Usually, when a Jedi - or a Sith - heals using the Force, it's to mend a physical wound, a specific injury, or to cure someone of a poison or disease. When the damage encompasses the entire body, with no visible signs, like this," - a gesture at Galen - "it's hard to determine how effective the process will be. And that poses another risk - I'm going to have to be very, very careful about how much energy I expend and transfer to him. If I weaken myself to much, use the Force over-extensively - well, we both might not survive." He grimaced.

A long pause descended, as both looked at the apprentice's still form - one with gravity, one with grief.

"Please," Juno requested softly, without making eye contact, "do what you can." She turned away and slowly left the room, and Kota could see her body trembling.

"So it wasn't just him, then," the old Jedi murmured to himself, gazing at the figure beside him in a new light.

He exhaled slowly, then repositioned his hands atop of Galen's chest. His eyes seemed to close of their own will as the Force flowed from one body to another.

"C'mon, boy," Kota urged, his voice a low growl beneath his breath. "Fight!"

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My my, I'm surprised at how fast I got this up. Please read and review! May the Force be with you.


	3. PROXY's Return

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! Keep it up!

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**Chapter 2 - PROXY's Return**

For Juno, the following two weeks progressed encased in erratic leaps of time. At some points, the moments passed with almost painful slowness, while other spans whipped by so speedily that she found it was only with great difficulty that she could look back and recall them at all. General Kota had flatly vetoed Senator Organa's original plan to head directly to Corellia - cloaking device or not, the Empire would doubtless be in vigilant search of the _Rogue Shadow_, and the old Jedi felt it prudent to avoid populated systems for a while. A tactically sound plan from an experienced strategist, it was agreed to by all, albeit reluctantly in the senators' cases, who were fretting being too long away from their home responsibilities. Bail had resumed his preliminary planning of the rebellion, which had been put on hold due to Darth Vader's untimely appearance. It was for this reason he wanted to return to the site of the original plotting against Imperial control - he hoped to salvage the droid PROXY, whose data banks contained information that would be vital in recording the origins of the rebellion. For the most part, the three senators remained closeted together, discussing and debating the technicalities of this potential uprising.

General Kota also remained isolated during the time the ship spent cruising areas of space away from inhabited systems and major hyperspace routes. Juno occasionally checked in on him - he could invariably be found in Galen's quarters, seated in a meditative pose beside the other's still-prone form. The pilot noted, as the days progressed, that the old Jedi was becoming increasingly tired and irritable, but he continued with stubborn determination in his attempts to revive the gravely wounded former Sith.

Between them, Juno and Kota had not yet devised a plan to inform the senators that Galen had not, in fact, been killed during the escape from the Death Star. They had agreed immediately that, the fewer who knew, the better, but as Kota pointed out, in the eyes of their passengers, the two of them could only spend so much time with a dead body before some suspicions were aroused. The old Jedi had planted the falsehood that he was using the Force to preserve Galen's body, needing to alleviate the issue of the "corpse's" decay. "When in doubt, tell them something that sounds professional, even though they won't understand it," he explained. But both he and Juno knew that either they had to divulge the truth, or something had to be done with Galen.

Finally, Kota agreed that now was as safe a time as any to return to the mountains of Corellia. Juno flew a roundabout route through the planet's atmosphere, first approaching within sensor range under the invisible guise of the _Shadow_'s cloak. They set down just outside the ruined monastery that had hosted the original gathering of rebellion, one of the only safe landing spots within walking distance of the area, with Kota grumbling ominously that they had better do what was needed and leave before they were detected by an Imperial patrol.

Juno volunteered to go out with Bail when he announced his intent to brave the wild snowstorm that had sprung up and search for the damaged PROXY, in hopes that the droid could be salvaged. The pilot explained her decision with the reasoning that the senator setting out on his own was not a smart move, considering both the fierce natural elements and his status as a rebel; but what she did not admit was that she was at least as eager as Bail to gain more knowledge regarding Galen's history, though for rather different reasons.

They could find no all-weather gear in the spare supply compartments of the ship, so they were forced to venture out as they were clad - Bail in his senatorial robes, Juno in her pilot's flight suit. The wind wrapped them in icy garments of its own as the exited the ship's hatch, each flake of snow a tiny, icicle-sharp missile that seemed to imbed itself in their skin. They kept within a few feet of each other, not daring to spread out in their search, lest the separation become permanent. Juno's main worry was the nearby cliff's edge - it had proved a salvation during Vader's initial attack, but in this situation that reputation could not possibly hold out; shuddering, she recalled the amazement she had felt when realizing that Galen had survived the treacherous fall. The pilot bowed her head against the wind, strands of hair flicking like minute flails at her numbed face. The ground beneath the snow became suddenly uneven. She stumbled and fell forward with a cry that was torn from her lips before it could be heard, her body impacting with a muffled crunch in the depths of the snow.

Quickly, before the cold had a chance to take hold of her already shivering body, Juno struggled to her knees. A gasp escaped her in the form of a small puff of steam as she saw that only half a foot from where she had landed, the ground dropped away into nothingness. She had been right to be wary of the cliff edge.

"Juno!"

Bail's raised voice came from close behind her, but sounded far distant due to the storm's ceaseless wails. The pilot turned. The senator was crouched there, digging furiously at the fluffy snow with his bare hands. Looking down, Juno saw the glint of metal and immediately understood. She twisted around and began helping Bail's efforts, flexing her icy fingers to keep the circulation going. For several long, cold minutes, they scrabbled at the earth, tearing away its blanket of frozen crystals. Then Bail leaned back, and they both looked with something close to triumph at the pitiful remains of the droid Juno had tripped over and unwittingly uncovered. The Force, luck, or some other beneficent power - Juno could not tell which had prompted the discovery - but she was sincerely relieved.

"Let's hurry!" Bail mouthed at her, and they stood together, bent over, and straightened again, numb hands now grasping PROXY between them. Carefully, but with as much haste as could be managed in the inclement surroundings, pilot and senator shuffled back through a spinning world of frigid white and grey.

***

An hour later, Juno and Bail could be found in a small cargo bay on the _Rogue Shadow_, which was now autopiloting its way to Kashyyyk. Both were still huddled in thermal wraps after their escapade battling the elements on Corellia, and had spent their time trying to repair the damage Darth Vader's lightsaber had caused to PROXY's torso. The droid was now propped upright against the wall, his photoreceptors dull and unresponsive despite the minimal repairs already made.

"Let's try connecting his main power circuits," Juno suggested. "If we can get him activated, maybe he can guide us through the rest of the repairs."

Bail nodded in agreement, and Juno was swift to put her own words into action. There came a sudden whirring sounds form the droid, and power currents threaded along his limbs even as his "eyes" blinked to their normal florescent yellow.

"Captain Eclipse," PROXY acknowledged, though his voice processor sounded strained. "And Senator Organa." The droid paused, as if considering his position. "I must admit, I am indeed surprised to find that my deactivation was not permanent."

Juno smiled faintly in response. "We still need your help, Proxy."

"Certainly." PROXY bowed slightly. "My master, after all, has expressed his wish that I give my full cooperation to his allies."

So PROXY, it seemed, did not automatically know of Galen's "death". Bail opened his mouth to correct this, but Juno gave him a warning look, shaking her head slightly. Now was not the time - they didn't know if PROXY's "full cooperation" would continue should he learn that he was an ownerless droid.

"First of all," the pilot said, taking charge, "we need to repair you, but we'll need some help in doing that."

"Of course. I'll be glad to assist you in my reconstruction."

"Good. But while we're doing so, could you tell us -" She paused briefly, then continued, "- How did your master come to be what he was, and turn against the Empire?" She knew some of the story, obviously, but Bail would need to hear it too.

"An engaging tale," the droid remarked - had he been organic, his voice would have been almost dreamy. "My master has a very intriguing history, you see."

"Tell us," Bail instructed, and Juno could see intense curiosity in his gaze as he stared at the droid. Of course, she realized, he would want to know what the truth was, having been rescued by a man clearly identified as Vader's apprentice by the Dark Lord himself.

"Well," PROXY began thoughtfully, "it all began during the Empire's attack on the planet Kashyyyk, a good number of years ago…."

For the next several hours, pilot and senator worked diligently under PROXY's instruction, all the while listening with rapt attention to the other's narrative of Galen's life. Juno was fascinated - Galen himself had never spoken at any great length about his past, and yet here was an objective biography from the personality who had known him longest. The cause of Galen's reticence became clear near the beginning of the story, as PROXY described in stark detail the brutal training the young Sith had undergone. He went on to tell of the many murders Galen had committed in the name of the Empire, including the Jedi targets that were to have been the culmination of his apprenticeship. Then the account turned to Galen's betrayal at the hands of his own master - the seed of doubt that sprouted into the path of redemption, freedom from the corruption of the Empire, that he had walked with ever-growing focus, and which had suddenly flowered when Galen had been hit with the realization of his true identity, imparted to him by his murdered father's spirit on Kashyyyk, and when Vader revealed his true intent in assembling a rebellion.

Just as PROXY was concluding his tale with his own deactivation while trying to save his master from certain demise at Vader's hands, something in the ship's systems beeped. Juno rose immediately.

"That's our signal that we're approaching Kashyyyk," she explained, wincing as she got to her feet. Her side was still tender from the wound she had received. "I'd better get to the cockpit - we'll need a secure place to set down." She glanced at Senator Organa. "I contacted your daughter as you requested - she'll be meeting us at the old Marek home. A sort of - memorial." She looked away quickly, hoping he would take this as a sign of her continuing grief.

"Memorial?" PROXY repeated, and it was obvious that he did not understand.

Juno sighed heavily, turning back to look at him. "Galen - your master - went to rescue the senators, after Vader captured them on Corellia. He defeated both Vader and the Emperor, but refused to kill them. Then the Emperor attacked suddenly, and the senators managed to get away, but Galen - he sacrificed himself to hold off the Imperial Forces and he… he couldn't get away."

"I see," said PROXY slowly. "In that case, I now serve you, Captain Eclipse. My master left explicit instructions that, in the inevitable event of his demise, my ownership be transferred into your hands."

The pilot nodded, taking a deep breath. She wasn't sure she could handle owning a droid of PROXY's temperament, even with his assassination protocols disabled.

"It is rather a shame, however," PROXY continued, "that he had to die such an empty, meaningless death. After all those years of training, he still could not destroy his enemies."

"I don't think it was meaningless," Bail spoke up abruptly, and there was heat in his voice. "He died to allow us to escape, and in doing so, ensured the survival of his rebellion. Vader and the Emperor still live - but so do those who defy him."

"Perhaps," was the droid's only response. "Perhaps."

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	4. A Symbol of Hope

**Chapter 3 - "A Symbol of Hope"**

That night, they gathered within the ruined structure of the destroyed Marek home. Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan stood at one edge of the worn, circular table that was positioned near one curving wall of the hut, beside his daughter, Princess Leia. Facing him were senators Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis, of Chandrila and Corellia respectively, together with the aging Jedi general Rahm Kota. Pilot Juno Eclipse and the droid PROXY remained respectfully on the sidelines, watching solemnly as the proceedings that should have taken place on Corellia unfolded. But not all was right, despite this quiet triumph.

The spirit, the founder, of their purpose, was not present.

Moonlight filtered through the shattered ceiling and walls, wafting waves of subtle silver water over the faces of the gatherers. Only the slightest breeze stirred the air, unable to penetrate the near-perfect silence that had descended.

Bail Organa placed both hands on the wide table's curving rim. Leaning forward purposefully, he spoke.

"Are we ready to finish what - he - started?" he asked, his voice low, his gaze glancing about to hold their eyes.

Senators and Jedi nodded somberly, and an aura of sadness hung briefly on the unmoving air.

Bail straightened, looking briefly at his daughter. "Then at last," he announced, in a tone of determination, "the Rebel Alliance is born." He paused, again glancing at his comrades. "Here. Tonight."

At a nod from her father, Princess Leia stepped forward. Her voice was soft yet firm as she continued where Senator Organa had left off.

"We need a flag to rally behind. A symbol."

Deliberately, she reached down and brushed the thick coating of dust from the area of the table in front of her. There, engraved as a relief into the worn, cracked wood, was the Marek family crest.

Bail placed a gentle arm about his daughter's shoulders as she finished.

"A symbol - of hope."

***

Not long after, Juno was standing alone out on the pathway. Her gaze took in the vast expanse of darkened sky before her, strewn with stars that looked as though they had been carelessly scattered there by an unthinking hand. The landscape of trees below was illuminated by the breathtaking view of Kashyyyk's several moons, which loomed like benevolent deities above her, fading into the night at their edges. A sense of peace seemed to come over her as her upturned face was bathed in the glow of the celestial orbs, something she had not felt since before she could recall. The grief and apprehension over Galen was still present - she doubted it would be banished by anything less than his eventual recovery - but it felt dulled, soothed; whether by the formation of the rebellion, or by the simple observation of nature's wonders, she could not discern.

Juno felt a hand descend on her shoulder, and looking around, saw Kota standing there, his sightless eyes seeming to also take in the beautiful scene before him.

A question that had been nagging at Juno for some time resurfaced in her mind, and after several moments' silence, she voiced it.

"You always knew who he was, didn't you?" he queried, hesitantly.

"I suspected, yes," was his reply, delivered with a slight, affirming nod.

Rather confused, the pilot continued earnestly, "Then why did you help us? After all the things we'd done?"

The old Jedi seemed to consider this, his expression thoughtful. When he replied, it was in a slow, careful voice, one of deliberation.

"When he… came to me, in the bar… among all his dark thoughts, I glimpsed one bright spot. One beautiful thing he held on to… even at the end." His face was once again lifted to the moonlit sky.

"What?" Juno asked softly, looking up at him.

A gentle smile hovered on his lips as he placed his hand on her shoulder again.

"You," he answered simply.

In the silence that followed, another voice sounded from behind them.

"My apologies for interrupting, Master," was PROXY's greeting.

Juno winced as she heard this. She had forgotten that the droid now considered himself her property. But now was as good a time as any to rectify PROXY's misconception, and the pilot turned, opening her mouth to protest.

"She's not your master," Kota said suddenly, beating her to the explanation.

PROXY glanced between the two organics. "Not my master," he echoed. "I assure you she is, General Kota. I was informed that my previous master had been deactivated, therefore -"

"She lied."

"Really," the droid said rather accusingly after a moment, frustration in his voice, "I will never understand this organic delight in speaking untruths. Are you telling me that my previous master has _not_ been deactivated?"

"Well, in a sense he has been, but only temporarily," Juno explained. "Or so we hope. He's - incapacitated."

"Then what was the purpose in lying?" was PROXY's next query.

"She was with Senator Organa at the time, and we hadn't gotten around to telling _him_ yet, let alone you," Kota elaborated. "Even the Empire thinks he's dead, and we'd prefer to keep it that way."

"I see," PROXY said, his voice processor taking on thoughtful tones. "And you are keeping him hidden in the _Rogue Shadow_, correct?"

Kota and Juno glanced at each other. "How did you know?" the latter asked slowly.

"A logical deduction. The ship is a secure place for a secret - in fact, it almost is one itself - and it would, of course, explain the cries I heard on board earlier."

"What cries?" interrupted Kota swiftly, his eyes narrowing. "When was this?"

"Approximately twenty-eight minutes ago," was the droid's immediate response.

Kota exchanged another pointed look with the pilot. "He's stronger than I thought," he whispered. "He shouldn't be awake yet."

Seconds later, they had dashed back to the grounded ship, fortunately not encountering the senators, which would have resulted in awkward questions as to their hurry. As they approached the door to Galen's quarters, Juno could indeed hear faint cries coming from within, and the sound seemed to tear into her.

"Stay back," Kota warned her, ready to trigger open the door. "You too, Proxy - I have no idea what he's capable of at this point."

The portal slid open, and Juno caught her breath sharply. Galen was no longer lying limp and unresponsive on the floor, but writhing there as if being tortured. His cries had now subsided somewhat to whimpers which sounded as if they were escaping from behind clenched teeth, as though he were doing all he could to remain quiet.

Juno was about to rush forward when she was held back, unexpectedly, by PROXY.

"Wait," the droid ordered. "I believe I understand, but allow me to judge if my analysis is correct."

At a brusque nod from Kota, whose jaw was tight with concern, the droid slowly stepped into the room. As he did so, his holo-emitters shimmered into life, and a moment later Darth Vader towered there, his chill breath echoing harshly.

The effect this sudden apparition had on Galen was shocking. He went immediately still, aside from a shaking that permeated his entire body. His eyes were clamped shut, and Juno could almost feel the waves of intense fear radiating from him. She had come to recognize the full extent of Galen's abuse as Vader's apprentice, thanks to PROXY's earlier narrative, but witnessing that torment personally drew away the veil that had obscured terrible reality.

Vader advanced forward, and Galen cringed as the other loomed over him, a merciless specter of darkness.

"Your failure is intolerable," the Dark Lord said coldly.

Still curled on the floor at PROXY's feet, the former Sith apprentice whispered hopelessly, "Master… forgive me…."

"You will learn nothing from forgiveness. Only from punishment."

Vader's lightsaber ignited with an ominous hiss, but Galen did not move except to tremble, seeming prepared to simply accept and endure.

"That's enough, Proxy!" Kota said sharply, noting Juno's look of horror beside him.

"I - quiet agree," the droid wearily responded, slumping forward as the Sith Lord's hologram faded out of sight. Returning to the doorway, he continued as Juno hurried past, "He is trapped within the memories of his training under Darth Vader. He believes the pain he feels now is due to his master's punishment. He seems to have no awareness of outside events, except those which coincide with his hallucinations."

"We'd better give him a sedative of some sort, then," Kota mused, looking over to where Juno was unsuccessfully trying to calm the deliriously distraught apprentice. "If he's in that much pain, it means his neural system is healing, but it'll be a long while yet before he fully recovers. _If_ he recovers," the old Jedi added. "He's strong and willful, but there are some scars nothing can heal."

He sighed, still staring blindly at Juno. "When the senators leave in a few days, she has to go with them. The Empire already sees her as a traitor - she can't stay in one place, and the Alliance could use a pilot of her skill."

PROXY nodded in agreement. "A logical conclusion, General Kota."

The Jedi passed a frustrated hand across his damaged eyes. "You'll stay with me, PROXY - I have to continue healing the boy. I'll need to find a secure place to hide, though we might be able to stay right here - it will take the Imperials awhile to re-establish their base of power around here. Just one thing, Proxy - Bail and the others don't need to know about - him - yet; it would just complicate things even more."

"Very well," the droid conceded. "I will keep my master's secrets, as always."

***

"You'll take care of him, won't you?" Juno queried anxiously to Kota. Both were standing at the base of the boarding ramp of Princess Leia's ship, which would shortly be taking off, laden with rebel dignitaries.

"I'll do everything I can," the old Jedi promised. He looked shrewdly at her. "You still haven't accepted this yet, have you?" he observed.

Juno shrugged uncomfortably. "No, I suppose I have," she admitted. "It's hard, but I understand."

"Then you realize why, at least for now, you can't stay with him?"

She nodded unhappily.

"Good." They clasped hands. "Force be with you all. Remind Bail to send all transmissions through Proxy, and that he'll have to be the one to get in touch with me, not the other way around."

"I will." She turned to leave.

"Oh, and Juno?"

The pilot looked back, halfway up the ramp.

"Try not to get yourself killed. As I said before, I don't want to be the one next to him when he wakes up and realizes you're dead."

Juno almost laughed, then disappeared into the ship. A few moments later, Kota had stepped back as the craft ponderously rose above the tree line, then it curved about and nosed upward into the atmosphere.

The old Jedi hoped to the Force that the rebels knew exactly what they were getting into. Because if they made just one major mistake -

Flat bantha poodoo.

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Please read and review! May the Force be with you.


	5. The Second Revival

Well, I know it hasn't been too long since the last chapter - I usually like to space them out a bit - but I'm having so much fun that I just couldn't wait to get this one up. Enjoy!

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Chapter 4 - The Second Revival**

The first conscious thought that drifted across his unresponsive mind was not "What happened?" or even "Where's Juno? Kota?"

It was, "Why the Force am I still alive?"

In fact, he had no conclusive proof that he was, indeed, still living - his senses, almost all of them, seemed to have been put on mute. But the slow realization that every square centimeter of his body felt as if it had been specially selected for a high magnitude beating was, from his numb view, a fairly good indication that the Force had not yet claimed him. It just didn't seem logical that death would not provide a total release from physical pain - thus, he could not be dead.

Not yet, anyway. He still had yet to discover even vaguely how and why this was possible. From the moment he had left the _Rogue Shadow_, falling down through an empty shaft deep into the Death Star's core, he had known this would be a one-way trip, and confirmation came swiftly. Despite defeating both Vader and the Emperor, he had not killed either, and with that cut off any chance he had of leaving the space station alive. His last memory was of the Emperor's leering face wreathed in lightning and the sudden sensation of everything inside him being propelled outward with unbelievable force. But beyond that - nothing.

Without opening his eyes, he tried to get the measure of himself and his surroundings, not an easy task with his senses still in disarray. From what he could feel with his aching body, he was lying face up on a bed of rough cloth. The coarse weave scraped against his fingers with painful acuteness, telling him that his nerves must be high-strung indeed, and not in a figurative sense. But little else could be discerned beyond his immediate situation - only silence met his straining ears - and so, cautiously, he allowed his eyes to flip open.

He had time to register a curved wooden wall on his left side before the cloth partition stretching wall to wall, from past his feet to somewhere beyond and a good distance away from his shoulder, was torn aside. Sunlight stabbed like dull needles into his eyes, and he squinted against the unexpected brightness, before the welcome shadows fell again as the screen was pulled closed again. His eyes relaxed, quickly adjusting once more, to see a familiar figure standing a few feet away.

"Finally awake, eh, boy?" Rahm Kota commented casually.

"K-Kota!" His voice hoarse, Galen tried to lift himself from the floor, an instinctive response triggered by his vulnerable position in front of another individual, though a friend. He suddenly became aware of how weak he was; his arms trembled visibly, and he sank back. His body was suddenly tensed - he didn't know what to expect or what events had conspired to bring him -

"Home," he whispered, glancing about in recognition - anywhere but at Kota - his slowly-restoring senses taking in the hauntingly familiar yet stark features of the ruined Marek hut.

Kota was watching him closely. "Yes," he said. "It seemed more prudent to have you in a place associated with the Jedi, than one linked to your Sith past."

Galen winced. Blunt as always.

He took in the other's words as he laid back down, his breathing shallow. "I don't….understand," he said softly, the words coming with a bit of difficulty.

"No, I don't imagine you do," the old general conceded. He moved over to sit by Galen, comfortably settled on the warm floor. "Where should I start?" he asked, spreading his hands wide.

"How did I get here?" Galen asked, after a moment.

"That's simple enough. We brought you here, aboard your ship."

"We?"

"The senators, your pilot, and I."

"Where are they now?" He tried to sit up again, his voice urgent. "If the Empire find them -"

"Relax, boy." Kota put a hand on his shoulder, firmly pushing him back. "You've got some catching up to do. They've been well away for over a month now. I've no idea where they are - we'll have to wait for Bail Organa's next transmission."

"Juno?"

"Long gone as well, though I daresay she's putting her skills to good use. The Alliance is lucky to have her."

Galen looked up, startled. "The All-?"

Kota couldn't help but grin in a satisfied sort of way.

"You've grown quite the pesky thorn in the side of the Empire, my boy. The Rebellion didn't die with you, in more ways than one - after our escape, Bail and the others vowed to continue what you'd began, and so far, they haven't been caught. No small achievement and not the least on your part. I imagine Vader wouldn't be too happy if he found out his 'apprentice' still lived." On seeing Galen's confused expression, he added, "Everyone thinks you're dead - Vader, the Emperor, even the senators. Juno knows, however."

"Why didn't you tell them?"

Kota looked at him steadily. "Do you really want the Empire to get wind and come after you?"

A brief silence fell. But there was still one matter Galen wanted clarified. "Why aren't I - dead?"

The old Jedi stared long and hard at him before replying. "The only explanation I've come up with is that you simply refused to die."

Galen looked back incredulously as Kota continued.

"That was one massive explosion you unleashed back in the Emperor's tower. It killed everyone - everyone but you, Vader, and the Emperor, but they believed you had also died. The residual energy from the blast masked the tiny spark in the Force that was your connecting thread to life. The Imperials tried to dispose of your body, but Juno -" he grimaced - "insisted on retrieving you. We barely made it out after I realized that you weren't as expired as first appearance indicated. When we were back on your ship, I examined you more closely, and it became clear just how little life was left in you." He paused. "You gave everything you had into that last attack - it would have killed anyone else. But it seems the extreme resilience you developed during your - training - served you well."

Galen smiled bitterly. How ironic, that the ruthless will and rejection of failure, beaten and punished into him by Vader, should preserve his life in the face of his old master.

"How long has it been?" he asked slowly.

"Nearly two months. Actually - astonishingly - you woke after only two weeks, but -" He hesitated.

"But what?" Galen asked levelly, his eyes hooded as he looked up at Kota.

"I had to sedate you," was Kota's tentative reply. "You were delirious, and very painfully so. From what your droid told me, you were reliving your training under Vader. It - wasn't pleasant."

Galen felt as though his insides had been twisted in the tight grip of an ice-cold hand. He tried not to show it, but his years under the Dark Lord's lightsaber were, understandably, a sensitive area of his past. Only PROXY had come close to knowing the full extent of the torment he had endured, and Galen preferred to keep it that way. He shuddered inwardly - what shame, what weakness, had been exposed by his unexpected return to those terrible memories?

Kota must have sensed the evident discomfort on Galen's face, for now his own features turned hard.

"You can't just put it behind you and forget about it, boy!" he hissed, locking his blind eyes on the former Sith. "Your past has made you who you are, and if you can't accept that, you're going to have a real hard time going back out there!" The Jedi's hand shot out to point rigidly at a gap torn in the ceiling above them, through which a thin stream of sunlight was descending. "The past isn't something you can hide or escape from!"

Galen felt sudden anger rising within him at this emotional intrusion, and it gave strength to his voice. "Stay out of it, old man!" he growled. "My past is no one's concern but mine!"

"Tell that to Kazdan Paratus and Shaak Ti!" Kota spat savagely in return. "Their past was what you hunted them down for! You killed them because of what they had been!"

The truth of the retort stung the apprentice deeply, and he could find no words to respond with - looking back now, from a different perspective than before the incident on Corellia, there was no defense for his action but the chain of Vader's authority. He averted his eyes from Kota's gaze - unseeing, but still penetrating.

"Will I always be a slave to the dark side?" Galen whispered bitterly.

"There will always be that connection," Kota confirmed quietly, calmer now that his point had been made. "The dark side is strong, boy, and you were in its grasp for many long years. It will never recede from you totally. But," he added seriously, "the light is also strong within you, and more powerful for the fact that you embraced it on your own. Nurture it, follow it, and you may find that the darkness will remain dormant, for the most part. It will not be easy. But the outcome depends on your own will."

Not exactly optimistic, Galen mused, grimacing weakly. But he was in no position to refute the other's supportive assertions, and so he remained awkwardly silent.

"What's the plan now?" he asked at length, his mild tone the closest thing to an apology he felt like offering at the moment.

Kota shrugged, giving no indication that the implication of Galen's words had reached him. "That can't be determined right now, not without more information from our senatorial friends." He frowned. "I'm beginning to worry - Bail should have contacted me by now. Last we spoke, he said it wouldn't be too long…."

He got to his feet with a soft groan. "Ahh, I'm getting too old for this, boy…."

Galen looked at him with distinct distaste. "D'you have to keep calling me that?"

"Why not?" Kota asked, grinning, with a hint of mischievous humor in his voice. "It's what you are. You've barely begun your journey as a Jedi, and unless I'm much mistaken, your Sith apprenticeship ended in definite disaster. So, _boy_ - " he put emphasis on the word - "get used to hearing it." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Galen suddenly recalled a snatch of their earlier conversation. "You said something about 'my droid' -"

"Oh, yes." Kota glanced over his shoulder. "I'll send him over with some food. After I got tired of your ship's rations, the local Wookiees kindly offered their own supplies."

_Bet Proxy'll love being a waiter droid_, Galen thought sarcastically. "Wookiee food?" he asked aloud, looking skeptical.

"And you're going to eat it, boy," the old Jedi threatened with a growl.

Galen watched as Kota left again, and his thoughts swirled in the inclement confusion of his mind; among them, the bright spot that his nearly life-long friend still survived.

Just as he did.

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Please remember to review - contructive criticism is appreciated! May the Force be with you.


	6. I Can't Get Involved

Sorry it took a bit longer to get this one up - life decided to intervene and get hectic on me, ha ha. Enjoy! Thanks to everyone who's following this story!

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Chapter 5 - "I Can't Get Involved"**

A week or so later, thanks to Master Kota's ministrations, Galen had recovered significantly - he was almost fully mobile, though his reflexes were slightly dulled from two months of incapacitation and he took care, at least while in sight of Kota, not to exert himself with overly taxing physical feats. Inwardly, however, he was beginning to peak with instinctive frustration that his body was still weakened. To ease this feeling of vulnerability, as well as to occupy himself while General Kota was busy with detailed strategies for the continued existence of the Rebellion, Galen engaged in regular sparring sessions with PROXY out in Kashyyyk's forests, his hands wrapped in strips of cloth to protect the scars left by the Emperor's lightning. As the pain eased from his body, he drove himself to work harder, determined to regain his mastery of both flesh and Force that had made him such a ruthless tool for Darth Vader's assassination schemes. PROXY, in turn, was pleased to assist him - as the droid pointed out, just because his primary programming had been erased did not mean his loyalty had been extinguished as well.

However, Galen had an ulterior motive for distracting himself with training. He had not yet been able to sort out his own feelings concerning the future. Part of him desired greatly to continue his original intent of bringing down the Empire, but cool intelligence and common sense intruded to impede that idea. He had been the cause of the senators' capture - could he risk jeopardizing them again? If he took an active hand in the Rebellion, it wouldn't be long before Vader surmised the truth of his apprentice's "demise", and then every rebel, important or not, would be severely endangered. These darkly contemplative fears haunted Galen's every waking moment.

"Enough, Proxy."

Galen held up a cloth-bound hand to the droid, who immediately shifted back to his own form from the holographic image of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Breathing a bit heavily, the former Sith dashed perspiration from his face and handed back the lightsaber PROXY had lent him. He could easily have claimed the weapon for his own, had he wished to, but that desire was nonexistent - the hilt felt unfamiliar, awkward, its contours contrasting with the curve of his hand. Earlier, he had used Kota's saber out of necessity, but that one had been lost on the Death Star, along with - he felt more than a passing pang at the thought - his father's crystal. Soon, very soon, he would need to gather components to assemble a new weapon of his own.

"Let's take a break," he suggested now, exhaling slowly.

"Of course, Master. I was just about to -"

Galen eyed PROXY curiously as the droid suddenly paused. "What's up, Proxy?"

His friend snapped to attention.

"Incoming transmission from Senator Organa."

In the few moments it took for PROXY's holo-emitters to engage, the fleeting recollection that Bail knew nothing of Galen's continued existence crossed the former Sith's mind, inducing a small surge of panic. _But it's too late now,_ he groaned mentally - with neither place nor time to hide, he braced himself.

Bail Organa's familiar figure shimmered into view in place of PROXY's slender frame. For an instant, Galen and the senator stared at one another, the former keeping his face impassive, thought tension lay beneath that smooth exterior.

Senator Organa, however, was not so adept at concealing his emotions.

"You!" he gasped, his dark eyes wide with shock, and then his voice seemed to become paralyzed.

"Er…. yeah, it's me," Galen confirmed hastily, rather disconcerted by the unexpected reunion, though obviously not nearly as much as Bail. "Nice to see you too," he added blandly.

Though, he had to admit, the senator was recovering his composure with remarkable speed.

"What is this?" Bail demanded, with acid fury. "Some trick of Vader's?"

"It had better not be," Galen replied darkly, unsurprised by the hostility in the other's tone, "because I'm tired of being double-crossed." He didn't blame Bail for being suspicious - the former Sith had been the bait last time, after all.

Before Senator Organa could sputter a retort, a voice hailed him from behind Galen.

"It's all right, Bail - the boy's with me."

General Kota directed a mutter at Galen as he passed, and the other could see that the old Jedi was quietly fuming.

"Sorry about this, Senator." Kota turned his sightless eyes upward in resignation. "You weren't supposed to know about him."

Bail crossed his arms defiantly. "And why not?" he asked, in the voice of one calming his tone with great difficulty. "I thought this was an Alliance, Kota." His gaze was accusing.

"It would have been just another distraction -"

_Thanks, Kota. Really,_ Galen thought sardonically.

"- And his being a martyr for our cause would have served to inspire others to join us." As an afterthought, he added, "It already has, in fact."

Bail did not deny this, but remained silent, the anger on his features replaced by consideration. "Well," he said finally, after a long pause in which he clearly decided he didn't want to know how Galen had come to remain alive, "he can still join us, even lead us again." He looked expectantly at Galen, and Kota also turned to him, his expression unreadable.

Galen, glancing from one to the other, hesitated only fractionally before providing his answer.

"No." His quiet voice was adamant. "I'm sorry, Senator, but I can't get involved again."

Senator Organa looked taken aback, and he started to protest, but Galen cut him off.

"It's far too dangerous, don't you see? Vader _knows_ me, he's manipulated me too many times not to know - if he even suspects I'm still alive, that it's _my_ hand guiding the Rebellion, our Alliance will go up in flames within weeks. The Empire already knows who its enemies are -" he nodded at Bail, "- at least some of them, and its agents won't rest until they find you. The only reason they haven't succeeded yet is because you haven't proved to be a real threat so far - their mistake - and so, thought they want you eliminated, the need hasn't arisen to send out thousands of Imperial troops in search of you. If I'm added to the mix, the Empire will pull out all the stops, and all its resources will be hurled against us. At this stage, the Rebellion just couldn't survive that." After a moment, he added unhappily, yet firmly, "I'm sorry. You have my support, but not my lightsaber. Not like I even have one," he added under his breath.

Bail swallowed hard, then nodded. "Very well. General," he said to Kota, "I thought you should know - I'm giving up my position in the Senate, and returning to Alderaan. Leia will be replacing me. I feel it's best if I get out of Imperial politics."

"The Empire will know right where to find you," Kota warned him.

Bail shrugged. "They already know where I am. And I might seem less of a threat if I don't hold a position of power or influence."

"That's your only shield _against_ them," the Jedi contradicted him. "Even the Empire can't go around murdering senators at random. Or so we hope."

Another shrug. "Then at least Leia will be safe."

Kota shook his head, but did not argue further. "Have it your way."

The senator did not respond; he seemed to be thinking hard. A moment later, he asked Galen, "What are your plans?"

"I don't know." Galen shifted his weight, unsure. "I may head to the Outer Rim and just sort of - wander." He smiled weakly.

Bail hesitated, then plunged on regardless. "A suggestion, if I may."

"I'm listening."

"Go to Tatooine." A pause - Galen observe that this conversation seemed to be full of them. "There is someone there who may be able to help you - in ways that others cannot."

Galen's eyes narrowed. "A - _Jedi?_"

Kota, meanwhile, was staring with amazement at the senator. "How do you know?" he demanded.

"We've met."

"Who is it?" the old general persisted eagerly.

"I'm not at liberty to say," Bail replied, a little stiffly. "I'm taking a great risk in divulging this information already."

Dissatisfied and irritated, Kota gave it up.

Senator Organa looked from one to the other. "I must go now. General, I'll be in touch."

Kota nodded. "Force be with you, Senator."

And with that, Bail's image faded and PROXY resumed his own form, sagging a bit, as his holo-emitters powered down.

"You did the right thing, boy," Kota remarked quietly, watching Galen.

"I abandoned them!" Galen retorted angrily. "I left my own Rebellion to its fate!"

"It was either that or condemn them," the other said reasonably. "At least this way, they have a fighting chance."

Galen did not reply, but stalked away, back towards the ruined hut.

"Boy!"

He turned in time to see something small and glittering arc overhead. Throwing out a hand, he caught the object easily. He opened his fist, and to his complete astonishment, saw a familiar azure crystal lying innocently on his palm.

"A good friend of yours asked me to return that to you, boy."

"Oh, and you only decided to go through with it when you needed to win me over?" Galen snarled, his anger pushing down the realization of who this "friend" had to be. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the clearing, inwardly seething, barely noticing PROXY following a few steps behind. The former Sith knew he shouldn't have lashed out at Kota, because the angry confusion within his mind was directed only at himself. Had the feeling been any stronger, he would have termed it self-loathing.

The old man was probably right, he thought, unseeing as he passed between trees drenched in liquid sunlight - he had gone with the only logical option available. But that knowledge did little to ease the dreadful sense of guilt now plaguing him. He, Galen, had started this, and it would be his fault if hundreds of thousands of people were slaughtered in their attempts to overthrow the Empire. And now, he was virtually running away from it all. His stomach clenched at the thought. He would be almost condemning himself to self-imposed exile, fleeing from world to world or simply hunkering down in hiding, no different from the Jedi he had once hunted. How ironic - and how fitting a punishment. For such a man, accustomed to constant action and moving freely, it was a despairing prospect. But the alternative, he reminded himself firmly, was unacceptable.

"Proxy," said Galen suddenly, without looking back, "go get the _Shadow_ ready for takeoff. If you see Kota on the way, tell him we're leaving."

"But Master, you are not yet fully repaired, and General Kota will have no off-world transport -"

"He can steal an Imperial ship, there are plenty around here. He's resourceful - he'll find a way to evade capture and go - wherever. I'll meet you at the ship."

"May I inquire as to our destination, Master?"

Galen paused his movement long enough to answer.

"We're going to find another Jedi, Proxy. One who'll be able to tell me what it really means to be one of them."

His hand clenched tightly around his father's crystal.

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Keep up those great reviews! May the Force be with you.


	7. In the Cantina

Sorry it took over a month for this one - life got busy. Enjoy! Keep up those reviews!

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**Chapter 6 - In the Cantina**

Galen had never been to Tatooine - it was an unremarkable Outer Rim world, with only a handful of large settlements; and as an assassin for Vader, he had found his targets mostly around the Core, and Inner and Middle Rims. As far as he knew, Imperial forces hadn't even bothered to set up a station on this remote desert planet, which meant he needed to be prepared for encounters with all types of sentients - such a haven from the Empire would naturally attract criminals and fugitives alike. And, he had to admit, it was a very good place to disappear to, if you were a lone Jedi.

Or, he added thoughtfully, if you were a Sith turned good.

He set the _Rogue Shadow_ down a good ways outside the largest settlement sensors picked up on approach, which the ship's database named as "Mos Eisley". Despite the apparent lack of an Imperial presence, Galen didn't feel that landing such a recognizable and unique ship in a local docking bay was prudent. He pulled on what he knew to be one of his father's old robes, a nondescript item in medium brown, which he had found hidden in his family's hut during his first visit to Kashyyyk. Then, draping the cowl low over his face, he disembarked, with PROXY in tow. The boarding ramp automatically lifted and closed behind them, and Galen was at least reasonably sure that few, if any, would be able to break in or steal the ship, should anyone happen to traverse this far out.

Even with the hood shading his eyes, he still squinted against the bright fury of the planet's twin suns, which reflected hazily on the flat plain before him, shimmering with intense, radiating heat. Silently, he picked out the angular forms of the settlement's buildings in the distance; only their shapes, and the occasional craft glinting above, defined them from the rest of the desert.

"Proxy," he murmured, "can you disguise yourself as some random being? I don't think it'd be a good idea to walk in there with an advanced holo-droid - at least not a visible one."

"Certainly, Master." As Galen watched with interest, PROXY took on the exact appearance of a slightly scruffy, heavyset human male, a gambler he had glimpsed on one of his assassination assignments. "Is my appearance satisfactory?" the man's nasal voice inquired.

"Good enough for me. Let's go." His features determined, Galen set off with unwavering steps towards the settlement.

Their entrance into Mos Eisley was unobtrusive. Though few offworlders made their way into the clusters of buildings from the outside, trade groups from other settlements were not uncommon, and so Galen and PROXY were able to slip, without too much difficulty, behind one of these. As soon as the crowds thickened, the two detached from the band and became just another pair of sentients carried along by the currents of the flowing populace.

Surrounded by milling hordes of beings from all walks of life, Galen felt rather lost and vulnerable without his lightsaber and adamant instructions of his purpose, as though this absence had reduced him to just the average person on an average world.

"If that Jedi's here it's not going to be easy to find him, Proxy," he muttered to the droid. "And then there are at least half a dozen other settlements on this planet. They could even be hiding out somewhere in the desert." He sighed irritably. "I wish Bail had given me more information to go on."

Glancing about warily, he moved casually down the street a ways, until they came to a narrow alleyway, little more than an alcove between two buildings on the right. Galen indicated that PROXY should follow, and the two darted into the half-concealed hiding place, shadowed by the overhang of one building.

"Keep a photoreceptor out, Proxy," Galen directed, his voice low. "I'm going to see if I can find that Jedi." He settled into a meditative position on the dusty ground, closed his eyes, and stretched out through the Force. He was immediately met with a barrage of mixed emotions, emanating from the multitudes of beings throughout the city; but he muted them out, searching for a more prominent presence that would indicate a Force-user. Before, long, however, he was interrupted by his companion.

"Master," the "man" said matter-of-factly, "I believe it would be advisable to change our location."

"What is?" Galen asked, instantly on his feet; the flurry of emotions faded.

"Either the Empire has already found us, or we did not detect that they were already here."

The droid pointed. Carefully, Galen peered around the corner, and among the drab browns and greys of the circulating populace, caught view of the tell-tale white and black of stormtrooper uniforms.

He swore softly. "You're right - we'd better leave, fast. Even if they're only a stationed garrison, they might have been alerted to watch for - rebels." He smiled thinly, but then grimaced. "I only hope they didn't see the _Shadow_ coming in."

Droid after man, they rejoined the throngs of organic traffic in the street and began making their way back to the settlement's edge.

"Short trip, eh, Proxy?" Galen muttered, intentionally putting a large cart between himself and the Imperials as it rolled past in the opposite direction.

"Indeed, Master," PROXY agreed. "Did you have any luck in your searching?"

Galen shook his cowled head. "Nothing, but I didn't get to cover the entire area. And it's always possible that, whoever this Jedi is, they're trained enough to shield their presence, even from me." He paused, carefully avoiding a spilled puddle of some viscous, murky fluid in his path. "If I remember correctly, there was another, smaller settlement, not too far south of here. Let's try there." His lips compressed in a thin, determined line. "I don't intend to give up until we find who we're looking for."

"It's almost like our previous times together, Master," said PROXY brightly, as they finally left Mos Eisley and headed out across the heat-stricken plain. "Searching for the target…."

"Only, we're not planning on killing this one," Galen answered sardonically.

"Oh, that _is_ a pity, Master." The "man's" voice sounded slightly depressed. "It always gave me such a feeling of satisfaction - after all, your target was my target. But without my primary programming, it just isn't the same…." He sighed, rather theatrically, Galen thought. "Having you distracted by your own target used to provide excellent cover for my own attempts to kill _you_." He looked at Galen hopefully. "For the sake of nostalgia, couldn't you try to kill this Jedi, and then I could attempt to kill _you_?"

"No, Proxy." But Galen laughed as he said it.

***

Minus tagging along behind a trade caravan, they instituted the same procedure they had used earlier at Mos Eisley to gain entrance into this smaller settlement. Here, Galen quickly realized, they would have to tread even more cautiously - though it became almost immediately apparent that no Imperials were present, in such a small bit of civilization strangers and newcomers were picked out swiftly by the locals. Moisture farmers eyed the passing duo curiously, and the former Sith was beginning to feel uncomfortable under their scrutinizing stares.

"Let's go in there," he said finally, nudging PROXY and nodding toward a cantina ahead, whose sign read "The Weary Traveler". "Cantinas are always good places to pick up bits of information."

With the droid trailing obediently a step behind his master, Galen stepped down and into the cantina. It was small, but clean and decently lit. A screen to one side could be heard chattering the latest news via the HoloNet, but this he ignored - he didn't need to hear about what the Empire was up to, with more crucial things to concentrate on right now. There were only a handful of patrons, mostly human - he supposed the majority of local residents were still out working to earn more than just a subsistence living - but in the corner, a group of four or five young boys in their late teens were seated around one table. Galen only glanced at them as he entered, but their conversation paused and their gazed followed the pair until both had taken seats a few feet away.

"What can I getcha?" the bartender called over.

Galen didn't feel much like drinking; fuzzy-headed was the last thing he needed to be. Shrugging at PROXY, he answered for the sake of appearances. "Just a juma juice, if you will."

"Righto." The bartender went to get the order, and general conversation resumed, though the boys kept stealing sidelong glances at Galen. In return, the former Sith listened carefully to their mutterings, without letting on that he was doing so.

"What d'you think?" one dark-haired boy, looking a bit older than the rest, asked the others quietly. "Don't look like your run-of-the-mill spacers, do they?"

"Not even close," another agreed. "The spacers usually go to Mos Eisley or Bestine - you can't get anything repaired here, other than speeders and farm equipment."

"Maybe they're on the run from the Empire," suggested a third, blonde companion, his tone almost envious.

The dark-haired boy shot him down immediately. "Or maybe they're _with_ those Imperials up in Mos Eisley, in which case, we'd better shut up."

"Aww, c'mon, Biggs," the blonde one whispered laughingly. "We don't know anything about the Rebellion except its existence -"

"Shh, Luke!" Biggs hissed warningly, his eyes darting to Galen and PROXY. "That's all we _need_ to know to be interrogated."

"All right, all right," Luke said, disgruntled. He paused, then asked, with quiet curiosity, "I wonder if they're looking for someone. Can't think of any other reason they'd be here."

One of the others snorted. "Who's here that the Empire'd want?" he asked skeptically.

"Dunno," said Luke shrugging. "Mebbe ol' Ben did something a long time ago. Wouldn't surprise me that they've only found him now - no one ever comes here, really."

"Ben Kenobi, eh?" murmured Biggs thoughtfully. "Well, if the old man suddenly disappears, we'll know what happened…."

Galen, meanwhile, had gone rigid, listening to the end of their conversation. Could it possibly be…?

"Proxy," he muttered, very softly, "I think we just found our Jedi."

"Indeed, Master. Though Imperial records state that Obi-Wan Kenobi was deactivated with most of the other Jedi -"

"Those records have been wrong before," Galen pointed out flatly. "They said Kota was dead too, remember?"

"A valid observation, Master."

"Now," the other continued, with a subtle glance at the still-whispering boys, "we need to find out exactly where this 'Ben Kenobi' happens to be." He took a small sip of his drink, which the bartender had brought over without his noticing. "I'll see if I can sense him anywhere around here." So as not to alert the other cantina patrons, the only move he made was to close his eyes. Almost instantly he was rewarded by the presence - and he had to double-check himself here - of not one, but two Force-users. Both were faint, though for different reasons. One was being deliberately concealed, but the other was undeveloped and raw.

Galen poked PROXY to get his attention, opening his eyes again. "Proxy - the blonde kid over in the corner - I think his name was Luke - he's a Force-sensitive."

"How intriguing, Master. Does he realize it?"

"No," Galen admitted, "but there's another here who's extremely powerful - though he's hiding it." He grinned slightly, his tone significant.

"I'm not the only one," said a quiet, Coruscanti-accented voice next to him.

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I just love cliff-hangers, don't you? Guess who! (Hint: It's not hard.) May the Force be with you!


	8. Train Me to Fight It

Apologies for how long this one took to get up on here. Life, again, is hectic, and I got rather caught up in some other stories. Thanks for not abandoning me!

If anyone's interest, I made a video for this, kinda - the link is next to the story on my profile.

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**Chapter 7 - "Train Me to Fight It"**

The man was probably younger than he looked - desert climate had a way of aging a person. His expressionless face was framed by close-cropped white hair and beard, but his eyes were sharp and bright.

"May I?" he asked politely, gesturing toward an empty seat at Galen's table.

Galen nodded shortly, studying the newcomer. Though the man's features were lined and weather-beaten, the striking similarity between him and PROXY's model of Obi-Wan Kenobi was immediately obvious.

In the corner, Luke waved tentatively, and "Ben" smiled in response, before turning back to his new acquaintances.

"You are no Jedi," he said softly. "I feel the darkness in you - but neither are you Sith."

_You don't beat around the bush, do you, old one?_ Galen thought, but he did not answer - for one of the few times in his life, he was feeling distinctly uneasy. This man was like no other Jedi he had ever encountered, Rahm Kota included.

"Perhaps," the other suggested, with a pointed glance at the boys in the corner, who were watching curiously, "we should go elsewhere?" He rose again, and Galen and PROXY followed suit. As the pair followed the old man to the door, after the other had left a generous payment for the bartender, Galen marveled silently at this strange meeting. Either this Jedi was extremely overconfident, or he was comfortable enough in his surroundings to openly approach a Force-user, quite possibly an Imperial agent, and invite him to come along without the slightest trace of disquiet. He hadn't even inquired about PROXY.

They exited the cantina and began pacing down the dusty street, and the longer they walked, the more uncomfortable Galen became. Then the awkward silence was broken by the Jedi.

"An explanation would be an excellent starting point for a conversation."

"Explanation of what?" Galen replied, feeling very on-edge.

"Why you are here, perhaps?"

"I -" Galen said, taken aback by the other's forthright manner. Feeling he needed to regain control of the situation, he narrowed his eyes and queried slowly, "Do you know of the Rebellion?"

"What rebellion?" was the innocent reply.

Galen ground his teeth in frustration. Just from the other's tone, he knew the real answer was "yes", but the old man obviously wasn't telling. Regardless, the former Sith continued.

"Well -" He paused, then finished. "I started it."

A long silence fell, broken only by their footsteps.

"No, you're not lying, are you?" the old Jedi said at length.

"No, I'm not," Galen confirmed, rather defensively.

"Well, this is all quite refreshing. I haven't had this interesting of a conversation in a long while."

"You - _are_ Master Kenobi, aren't you?"

"I am." He nodded slightly. "And I'd very much like to know how you found me."

"Bail Organa sent me," Galen elaborated quickly.

"Then I think that's a fairly good indication that I can trust you - initially, at least. Now, perhaps you can further prove yourself by telling me how you managed to, as you say, start the Rebellion."

"It's - a long story." Galen exhaled slowly.

Kenobi shrugged. "We have time."

Galen silently weighed his options. He had always, as a rule, been extremely reticent about his life; but circumstances had changed - drastically - and he dimly registered that it might, in fact, actually _help_ him to divulge most of what had previously been kept hidden. True, this man was a virtual stranger, but it was possible that the Jedi could aid him, and Galen felt that it was not unwarranted for the other to request information regarding his past.

Finally, he nodded. "All right. It's not pleasant, but I don't doubt you've heard worse." And with that, he began narrating the events of his life, trying to keep his voice passive and unwittingly reiterating the story previously imparted to Bail Organa and Juno Eclipse by PROXY. Kenobi, he noted, was also doing his best to remain expressionless; though whenever their eyes met, Galen could see the old Jedi frowning and looking increasingly disturbed. The former Sith, on the other hand, was surprised at how well he handled the details of each assassination he had committed.

As he related how he had infiltrated the Death Star after Vader's betrayal on Corellia, and described his duels with the Dark Lord and the Emperor, Kenobi was gazing at him shrewdly.

"Powerful," the old man murmured, seemingly to himself. "Exceedingly powerful, to defeat both Vader and Sidious…. not even Yoda managed that."

"He fought Vader and the Emperor?" Galen had come across a good many references to the former Jedi Grandmaster in his studies of the Order, but no mention of such a duel.

"Only the Emperor," Kenobi corrected, looking pained. "It resulted in Yoda's death… this was just after Order 66 was executed… along with the Jedi Order," he added bitterly. "And only twice since has Vader been defeated."

"Twice?" repeated Galen, a bit sharply, his voice turning upward. "Who -"

But the old man's expression gave him the answer.

"Yes, I fought him. He was not the cold bionic shell you know, but an impassioned young man - filled and torn by anger and love, until he was turned by the darkness that had been unveiled. In many ways, like you."

Despite that troubling last statement, Galen was darkly fascinated. Here was a side of his former master he had never encountered, never even known to exist. True, he had speculated privately as to Vader's past, but there had been only sparse conversation between them, and the former Sith had been taught rigid submission, not open questioning.

"You sound as if you knew him well," he pressed.

Kenobi sighed. "I did. Or, I should have. I trained him."

There was a very long, very potent pause. The stunned silence was finally broken when PROXY interrupted from behind them.

"Astonishing, isn't it, Master?"

"All the records state that Anakin Skywalker was killed during the attack on the Jedi Temple," Galen said, his voice hushed.

Kenobi smiled thinly. "To all intents and purposes, they are correct. The heroic young Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, no longer exists."

Galen stood in shocked silence, seemingly immobilized. The exploits of Skywalker, the supposed Chosen One, had been legend during the Clone Wars - Anakin, hero of the Republic, fiercely loyal to the Jedi, bane of the Separatists. And all that had been extinguished beneath the guise of the Empire's Dark Lord.

_Who would I have become…. if Skywalker had remained?_

The thought penetrated him with almost painful anguish. He had been trained under one of the most renowned Jedi in existence, and yet had learned only darkness and hatred.

Kenobi, meanwhile, cocked an eyebrow at the distraught young man. "We seem to be in a similar position - both in hiding from the Empire, and both, I imagine, thought to be deceased. But apart from that, I see no reason for your seeking me out."

Galen pulled himself back from his horrified musings.

"I need your help," he said, an edge of desperation to his voice, as PROXY looked on with evident interest. "Consciously, I've rejected the dark side, but - it's been so fully established that I instinctively want to fall back on it." He paused. "I need you to train me to fight it."

The old man leaned back on his heels, arms folded comfortably. "Ah, yes," he said, frowning. "The darkness has a strong hold on you indeed. You are accustomed to fighting your way to dominance." He shook his head seriously. "The darkness cannot be fought, my friend, only kept at bay. But first, you must accept its presence within you - for how can you hold back something whose existence you do not acknowledge?"

Galen nodded, a bit dubiously, slightly confused.

"Come," Kenobi said briskly, suddenly businesslike. "And bring your friend." Turning, he set off once again down the street.

After exchanging a long look with PROXY, Galen shrugged and followed. The droid trailed after him, yellow eyes gleaming.

One long and dusty eopie ride later, they were deep in what Kenobi called the "Jundland Wastes", a barren landscape of sand-torn rock formations, hulking and ominous. The journey had left Galen feeling tense and restless. As they dismounted in what seemed to be a totally unremarkable canyon, he glanced around, gauging the narrow area of open space. The atmosphere was acutely silent and still.

"C'mon, Proxy," he said shortly, moving away from the animals now standing patiently by the canyon's ragged wall.

Kenobi, unloading a pack of supplies from one of the eopies, turned in surprise. "Going already?"

"Not really," Galen replied, now removing his robe and tossing it over a nearby rock. "Training." He caught the saber hilt PROXY tossed him, and moved into position, savoring the sensation of mobility after riding for so long.

"What module would you like, Master?" PROXY inquired, finally ridding himself of the scruffy trader's appearance. Kenobi eyed him with interest.

"That's quite a droid you've got there."

Galen smiled faintly, but directed his reply to PROXY. "Surprise me."

"Very well, Master."

And a moment later, there stood Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Oh, that's bad, Proxy." Galen laughed, and without waiting to see the real Kenobi's reaction, launched himself at the droid, igniting his lightsaber as he went.

It gave him a fierce, almost vindictive pleasure to demonstrate his prowess to the old man, to show that he could hold his own against a legendary Jedi Master in his prime. True, no mere droid could ever fully duplicate a fighting style so imbued with the Force, thus preventing Galen from unleashing his full power, but it was enough to provide an exhilarating challenge for him. PROXY's artificially enhanced speed and power were offset by the former Sith's immersion in the Force, and the area around their constantly shifting forms became a cocoon of azure light, the air humming loudly with concentrated energy. Galen twisted and extended, twirled and locked, each position flowing into the next with such grace and precision that his body felt fluid rather than solid. He hardly needed to think; he was detached from his physical self, yet in complete control, lost in the endless intricacies of pure conflict….

Then, without realizing how it had happened, he lost that control. Now he was no longer striking with necessity, but with anger. His blows became stronger, his technique more aggressive, his saber seeking openings in PROXY's defenses that would have previously let pass…. subconsciously, he had slipped from the Shien form into Juyo, and negative emotion fueled his attacks. It was as if he had returned to his training under the Dark Lord, the brutal sparring sessions…. his surroundings became swathed in shadows, and his adversary was cloaked in black, harsh breathing, like the hiss of steam, echoing in his ears…. rage became cold fear…. his blade faltered….

Pain flared in his left arm, his knees hit the ground with a jolt, and the darkness receded, restoring the drab surroundings of reality. Instinctively, he thumbed off his saber, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He glanced at his arm, and saw that the sleeve had been torn open near the shoulder by a deep gash; and as if in response, the wound seared again.

"You haven't left yourself open like that in years, Master." PROXY's voice, like his appearance, had returned to normal, and the former was filled with surprise.

Galen winced, then hastily got to his feet as he saw Kenobi still standing on the sidelines, watching him.

"Something happened," he muttered, avoiding the old man's penetrating gaze. "The anger - it paralyzed me -"

"You're letting it control you."

Kenobi's voice was not admonishing, only dictating a statement. He strode over and glanced at Galen's slashed arm. "You should put some bacta on that," he suggested mildly.

"I'll be fine!" Galen's tone was harsh as he flinched away, aggravated at the other's probing. He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth staying with this decrepit specimen of a Jedi. At least Kota had been active, forceful, but Kenobi was almost indecently calm and serene.

"As I said," the old man continued now, as though no break in their conversation had occurred, "you're letting it control you. Not fighting does _not_ mean sitting passively -"

"You're not telling me how to change that!" Galen shot at him.

"- and letting your emotions dictate your mindset," Kenobi finished placidly. "The Jedi walks a path of mediation, between being in control and letting the will of the Force control _him_."

"Then teach me!" Galen said forcefully. "Show me how to find that balance!"

The old man eyed him thoughtfully, but did not reply.

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Darth Sayn - did someone say hints of the dark side? =D

Please review! May the Force be with you.


	9. In the Depths of Dreams

Yes, yes, I know. About two months since I last updated. Apologies - I got caught up in some other fanfiction. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 8 - In the Depths of Dreams**

_Ash hung like paralyzed rain in the smoke-encrusted air. He could feel it stinging his throat with each anguished breath he drew in, as his watering eyes squinted against the bright glow of lava. Below, the river of viscous molten rock flowed sluggishly by, spitting and hissing in subtle rage, flinging its red-gold substance upward. And there, struggling on the dark granules of the sloping bank -_

_His brother. Hatred etched in his red-rimmed eyes._

_He could hear himself screaming useless words now, the pain of tearing them from his throat mirroring the agony that was in his heart, his soul. Tears, full and bright, washed thin tracks down his grimy face, cooling his burning skin. He saw, with horror, that the other's clothes were smoking, and moments later they blossomed into flame, so that screams other than his own now ripped mercilessly at his being. He turned away, unable to bear the torment of watching the other being consumed by this world's fires. His tortured gaze dropped to the ground, where something glittered with liquid light -_

Ben Kenobi was woken by the terrible scenes of his old nightmare, a dream he had thought he had put behind him years ago. He was startled to find that he was perspiring, despite the fact that he had adapted to Tatooine's fierce climate after only months of residing here. But apparently, recent events had roused the memories of a distant past.

Disturbed, he rose from his pallet; the cool darkness was soothing after the heat of the nightmare. Slipping on robe and boots, he moved softly into the main chamber of his hut. All was quiet - he could see his guest's form twitching gently with the rhythm of sleep in the next room. By the door, the strange droid's eyes were dulled, but as the old man moved past, they brightened to yellow, sensing someone nearby.

Ignoring this, he climbed the short flight of worn steps that led outside, and emerged into the solitude and serenity of the nighttime Jundland Wastes. Here, on top of a high, steep bluff, he was safe from the roving Sand People and could look out at the vast, empty expanse of the Dune Sea. A soft breeze whisked past as he lifted his face to the star-strewn sky, letting the simplicity of this place calm him. He often stepped out like this, sometimes for only a few still moments. It reminded him that he was a vessel of the Force, and thus a part of all his surroundings. This was where the Force was at its purest - in the simple harmony of nature's landscapes, however bleak and lifeless they seemed.

_I quite agree._

The gentle, almost purring voice echoed within his mind, and he smiled.

"I know you do. You impressed that on me many times."

_It seems to have worked. _

He did not answer immediately, but then abruptly changed topics.

"What do you think of him?"

_I think that he has suffered far more than he is willing to tell anyone. He guards himself with iron walls of anger and fear; barriers whose existence he does not even consciously recognize; and without awareness of their presence, he cannot be free of them._ A pause, long and pointed._ You cannot retrain him, Obi-Wan._

"But he must be given the chance. He seeks the light within himself, to be rid of the darkness that is Vader's shadow -"

_No. If he wishes to walk the path of the Jedi, he must find the knowledge and strength to do so within himself. No amount of teaching can replace what he learned under the Sith - it is too much a part of his identity, though he believes otherwise. Could you, Obi-Wan, reject all that you experienced in our years together? Could you leave all that behind to pursue a new and virtually unknown identity?_

"I see your point. But I do not agree with it."

_Nevertheless, this is the path you must follow. You cannot abandon the boy for the sake of reforming a stranger, who in any case would benefit little from your teachings._

"You are - right, as always, Master. Your wisdom is irrefutable."

The voice chuckled dryly.

_Death has a way of opening the eyes, Obi-Wan. One day, you, too, will understand._

***

_He could feel his breathing coming fast and sharp from his chest, each gasp of air cold and bitter in his throat. It was as if he was suspended in nothingness, looking through perfectly clear window that extended all around him. He watched as a tough looking old man, leading a group of perhaps two dozen assorted beings, predominantly humans, bashed his way into what seemed to be a sort of imposing, fortified base. A beam of green energy extending fluidly from the man's hand, making short work of the sealed doors. His companions spread out behind him, holding various types of blasters and disruptors, and began advancing in his wake._

_The moment all of them were fully inside, a second set of doors cut them off from behind, and soldiers in bulky white armor dropped from a level above to surround the invaders._

_There was one infinitesimal pause in which a piercing sensation of vicious horror permeated the watcher's entire being. But as a feeling of nausea rose sickeningly within him, he knew he was nothing more than a helpless observer._

_The armor-clad soldiers, positioned in a circular formation, raised their dark rifles and opened fire._

_The members of the motley offensive were mowed down almost instantly under the crossfire of scarlet energy bolts, collapsing in various positions of death, their shocked cries unheard. The old man, rage evident on his weathered features, managed to deflect the first few rounds of the attack with his vibrant blade. Then he was hit from behind. His body went rigid, and he fell to his knees, his mouth half opened in silent protest as energy bolts continued to pour in. Within moments, he was a still figure lying among his companions, the hilt of his weapon discarded only inches from his limp fingers._

_A tall figure, swathed in black, strode slowly over to the body and negligently flicked it face up with the toe of a dark boot. The man's weapon was pulled into a gloved hand as if magnetically drawn there -_

"KOTA!"

Galen Marek went from slumber to wakefulness in the interval between one heartbeat and the next, his voice screaming the Jedi's name in fury.

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Short, with a cliffhanger - oh, the suspense! Keep up those reviews! May the Force be with you.


	10. Don't Do It

Told you this story didn't die! It was just on hiatus! For... about six months... oops... sorry.

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**Chapter 10 – "Don't Do It"**

Seething with intemperate anger, Galen was on his feet within moments – a hot, glowing beacon in the soft darkness that permeated the hut. But his rage was more than an instinctive reaction – it was a mask his mind had donned in order to hide any outward clues that he was severely shaken. The fact was, that finally managing to voluntarily use the power of foresight, he had expected to be able to control that particular ability. To have it take him unawares like this, especially when he was most vulnerable – in his sleep – was something he had not been prepared for.

And the vision, the vision itself, was what had wracked him most. He knew that it had not been simply a random, though vivid dream, brought on by subconscious, pre-slumber musings. No, what he had seen – a feeling of anguished surged through him – had occurred, and he had witnessed Rahm Kota's death with frightening clarity. The scene flashed before his eyes again in dim recollection, and with it came the burning desire to exact retribution, terrible retribution, on the Empire. Undoubtedly, Kota would have talked him out of this course of action with his usual bluntness – but, Galen thought, with bitter fury, the old Jedi was no longer here to do so.

His mind set, he stalked purposefully from the room. There was no sign of Kenobi. Galen, looking around, spotted PROXY immediately.

"Proxy," he said sharply.

The droid whirred to life at his master's call. "Here, Master," he said, as brightly as was technologically possible for him.

The former Sith turned away, somehow unable to endure the stare of PROXY's glowing, unblinking photoreceptors.

"We're leaving. Now."

"I see. Have you taken up planet-hopping as your new occupation, Master?"

"Not exactly." Galen couldn't even muster up a smile in response to the query.

"If you'll excuse me for saying so, Master, you sound more than a bit distraught –"

"Is there any reason why I shouldn't be?" Galen snarled.

"I'm afraid that I can come up with nothing that would explain your sudden change in behavior –"

It exploded out of him before he even realized he was shouting.

"Kota's _dead_, Proxy! DEAD! _On Vader's orders!_"

A slight pause. "I'm curious as to how you obtained this information –"

The calm in the droid's voice processor made Galen want to lash out at him.

"It was an accident – I had a vision, I don't know why –" He paced wildly about the room, drawing in rapid breaths in an effort to control his still-mounting anger. "How, Proxy?" he spat furiously. "How could the Empire have found him so easily?"

Before the droid could answer, a thin shadow moved across the doorway of the hut, and Kenobi emerged from the night outside.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired mildly.

Galen turned to face him. "I'm leaving the planet," he said, moderating his voice and, with difficulty, letting the emotion recede from his features.

Kenobi raised an eyebrow in reply. "I thought you needed my help."

"That's beside the point now."

"And this 'point' is now what, precisely?"

"That's not your business, old man!" Galen retorted, this time unable to hide his anger as he glared at Kenobi.

A long, tense silence fell, broken only by Galen's footsteps as he moved to the door.

"Don't do it." The old Jedi's voice sounded thin and feeble, no longer serene.

"Do what?" Galen threw back impatiently, as PROXY joined him.

"Seek revenge against the Empire."

Galen froze. How did he know…?

"You won't help anyone by killing stormtroopers," Kenobi continued, almost pleadingly, pacing forward. "Retribution can only get you so far. If you give in to your anger, you will have learned nothing but what Vader taught you."

The former Sith only stared at him coldly, but inside the familiar words had choked him. "I should have known better than to think you would understand."

And, pivoting, he disappeared outside.

The _Rogue Shadow_, he was relieved to find, was untouched despite its many hours of vulnerable solitude in the flat desert outside of Anchorhead; in the darkness, it could have been the hulk of a crashed ship, had it not been for the fact that it was intact. Apparently, its remote location, coupled with the local pastime of keeping out of trouble with the Empire, had caused residents to refrain from investigation.

Powering down the _Shadow_'s security protocols with a few deft touches of his hand, Galen leaped onto the boarding ramp before it had even touched down. He glanced back to ascertain that PROXY was still behind him, and in doing so noted suddenly how still the landscape was, the vague shadows sprinkled with starlight. Pushing this revelation form his mind, he strode upward into the craft's interior. It was only once both he and the droid were securely inside that it occurred to him that he had left his robe – his father's robe – behind, in Kenobi's hut.

_It doesn't matter,_ the former Sith told himself harshly, but there was no conviction in his thoughts. He struggled to remember – Kota, the rebels, callously slaughtered by his old master – and the flame leaped up again inside him, searing his heart with its intensity, eager for blood. The anger returned, and it seemed to clear his confusion. His sense of purpose renewed, filled with the strength of emotion, he made his way to the cockpit, seated himself, and fired up the sublight engines.

"Proxy," he asked, without looking up from his work, a slight ripple in his voice the only indication of suppressed rage, "the Corellian Run goes by Tatooine, doesn't it?"

"Affirmative, Master," the droid replied promptly. "Assuming that my analysis of your intentions is correct, I can also say that it is necessary for ships using the route to emerge into real-space for a time in a section of the Run which, incidentally, is only a few minutes away from our present location."

A look of grim anticipation found its way onto Galen's hard features as he sent the _Rogue Shadow_ arching upward through the planet's atmosphere.

As they approached the edge of the hyperlane, he could feel the building pressure of barely controlled fury beginning to rise within him once again. He brought the ship to an abrupt halt, cloaking it.

"Scan for approaching ships."

He was rewarded within moments – this was, after all, a well-traveled route.

"Incoming vessel from the Core," PROXY reeled off briskly. "Imperial shuttle, Lambda-class."

"Excellent," Galen whispered. Lambda-class transports were substantially shielded, but had little maneuverability – an easy target, and most likely carrying Imperial troops or officials.

They wouldn't know what hit them.

With almost detached motions, Galen moved the _Rogue Shadow_ into position, watching through the viewport as the shuttle approached, blissfully ignorant of the fact that the further it traveled, the closer it came to its doom.

Then, when it was almost directly below them, he switched off the cloak and the _Shadow_ swooped down, encircling the victimized craft and bombarding it mercilessly with laser canon fire.

"Enemy craft disabled and crippled," PROXY reported, in a satisfied tone.

"Jam their communications," Galen ordered, bringing the ship about again. "I'm boarding. Then cloak the _Shadow_ again and wait for me." He rose as the droid obediently took the help, maneuvering about the listing Imperial shuttle.

A drum began to pound darkly in Galen's chest.

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With startling speed, as though transported there instantaneously, he had entered the enemy craft. His appearance through the smoke and sparks of burned-out systems was greeted by alarmed cries of "We've been boarded!" and "Raiders! Pirates!" He could make out the vague shapes of stormtroopers scrambling about, trying to summon some semblance of order.

Galen didn't intend to allow them time to do so.

His lightsaber was a streak of fluid azure in the confused gloom. With unerring precision and deliberation, he cut down Imperial soldiers on either side as he advanced. One he simply ran through with his blade, and as another charged he kicked out at him before jerking his saber free and severing the trooper's head. Yells and groans echoed from all sides, but Galen paid them no heed as he unleashed his wrathful revenge. A veil of rage had descended upon his mind, blinding him to all but the continuing savagery he now wreaked upon these agents of the Empire. Amidst a field of slaughter, he forced his way into the cockpit, where several more troopers and an Imperial officer were unsuccessfully trying to re-establish communications.

Within moments, they too were only slashed and mangled bodies.

Breathing harshly, Galen seemed to come back to himself as he stood there near the control panel. The bloodlust was still pulsing dangerously through him, not yet sated, still unsatisfied, but with the murders of the last handfuls of Imperials it seemed to have relinquished its control of the former Sith. He glanced around, taking in the scarred surfaces and broken forms. Had he really done all this, so quickly?

Sudden exhaustion overcame him then, and he slumped into the nearest seat, finding that his body was trembling with exertion. He sat as if in a trance, and his shaking became more pronounced, as the enormity of what he had done crashed in like a wave breaking into surf. He had killed a score of soldiers without provocation, in cold blood, and they almost certainly had not been involved in Kota's death. Even while enslaved by Vader, he had hesitated to slaughter the ignorant, the unaware. Now, after this, was he any better than the Dark Lord?

He allowed his head to fall forward into his hands, bowed in anguish. He had intended to do this for Kota, in the name of the old Jedi – but Galen knew that if the general was watching, he would only be sickened.

_If you strike him down in anger, you'll be right back where you began._

How true, how foreboding, those words sounded now. And he had thrown them away for a few moments of vicious satisfaction.

How long he remained there, lost in misery and self-loathing, he could not tell. But the slow realization that the vibrations he was feeling were not only being generated by his own body roused him. With an effort, he forced himself back to reality, painful though it was.

"Proxy," he whispered into the comlink at his wrist, "what's going on?"

Only a chill silence answered his hail.

"Proxy? Proxy, can you hear me?" A note of panic found its way into his voice, causing it to break slightly. What could have happened to the droid?

"Proxy!"

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Remember those reviews! May the Force be with you.


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